Cartwheels
by Sunsong
Summary: Glorfindel returns from Valinor and finds trouble immediately. He's a conservative, stern, warrior. Erestor is Imladris' resident oddball. It's enmity at first sight. With those two on the loose,how in M-E is Elrond supposed to impress Celebrian? Can Elr
1. Of motley and cartwheels

A/N: I've seen a lot of fanfics (slash and otherwise) in which (a) Erestor is the quiet librarian/secretary and Glorfindel is the exuberant warrior – it's not that I don't like it, but something new would have been nice. Since I couldn't find anything, I decided to write my own. And (b) there are many fics detailing the relationship of these two after several millennia (see earlier parentheses), but so few writ out beginnings. So, written for you and I, with many, many, hopes for reviews (and that I won't get bored and stop in the middle).

If I've made any mistakes- let me know! I really do appreciate constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: If I could write something funny here, I would. In the meantime . . . Tolkien, none of it was, is, or ever shall be mine- save that which I make up due to lack of knowledge.

()()())()()()()()()()()())()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()))()()()()

"Whom did you say has become Lord Elrond's chief advisor?"

"A Noldor named Erestor," Lindir answered.

"How would you describe him?" asked Glorfindel.

The bard took his time before carefully replying, "Erestor is a most unique individual."

"How so?"

"Ah," Lindir tried to think up a reply that would not get back to Erestor. Granted, the words that came to mind when people thought about Erestor might possibly be taken as compliments by that elf. However, he didn't want to influence Glorfindel's thinking. He spotted a multi-colored blur cartwheeling rapidly down the corridor in their direction. "Erestor is- look out!"

The warning came too late. Glorfindel and a Noldorin elf were lying on the floor in a tangled heap. The dark haired elf was the first to get up.

"Elbereth! I'm so sorry I've knocked you over. Should I know your name?" Glorfindel was attempting to rise from the floor. He shook his head. "Are you hurt? Your leg? Here, I'll help you to the infirmary." The dark haired elf turned to Lindir. "Linwen, help me carry him." Glorfindel knocked the Noldor's hand away, his gray eyes the color of stormclouds.

"Do not touch me." Glorfindel spoke the words calmly enough, though Lindir shuddered at the look in his eyes. "Lin_dir_, will you help me to the infirmary?"

"Sorry, Linwen. I'll go find Elrond." And the Noldor dashed off down a different corridor.

As Lindir helped Glorfindel off to the infirmary, he apologized for the dark haired elf's behavior. "Lord Glorfindel, I _am_ sorry that you were knocked down on your first day at Rivendell."

"You did not knock me over. I do not blame you; why are you apologizing?" This question, spoken in even, measured tones, was forced through gritted teeth.

"Ah," Lindir was trying his hardest to answer that coherently. Being around Glorfindel had that effect on a large number of beings. Aside from his asking difficult questions, Lindir knew from experience that while Glorfindel did not make friends easily, Valar help you if he counted you his enemy. He attempted to distract Glorfindel as they walked. "How was your trip? Are any elves besides yourself visiting Imladris from Lothlorien? How are Galadriel and her family? How is Cirdan? Did you pass by Numenor? Have you spoken with the new Numenorean king, Ar-Adunakhor (Imladris has been rather busy of late)? What-"

"Lindir, who was that elf?"

Lindir swallowed hard. He wasn't sure precisely what Glorfindel intended, but on the other hand, _Linwen_? Although Lindir knew that the cartwheeling elf was extraordinarily absentminded, and gifted with an ability to entirely forget one's name- Linwen! "That was Erestor."

()(())()(()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

A/N: Yes, I know it's short. But please bear in mind that I haven't written a fanfic in a while. More should be coming either by the end of this week or by the end of August (whichever is first).

The reason Lindir is so annoyed is because the translation of his name approximates as "a singer." The approximate translation for Linwen is "singing maiden."


	2. By all the Valar!

A/N: Whee! Here we are again. I'll save the real author's note for the end of this chapter. For now, enjoy!

()()()()()()()())()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Glorfindel opened his eyes to find Elrond peering worriedly down at him.

"Lord Elrond? You're not a beautiful, female Vanyar- could you back away please?"

"Lord Glorfindel, I'm _trying_ to see if you have a concussion. Since you don't, I will." Elrond made good on his word, and allowed Glorfindel to observe his surroundings. Glorfindel's mind was always a bit slow to wake up. He simply looked, and noted that his leg was in a cast, a set of crutches were propped within easy reach atop his nightstand, and that (judging from the sunlight pouring in from the nearest window) it was approximately noon.

Lord Elrond allowed him to digest this, and then broke the silence. "Lord Glorfindel. I am sorry to bother you, but I do have some questions that need answering."

Glorfindel settled back on the pillow. His attitude was respectful, but not at all subservient. "Very well."

"There has been little traffic with Númenor of late, and much of that has been cold. How is this new king- what is his name? – minded to treat with the Eldar?" asked Elrond.

Glorfindel replied, "his name is Ar-Pharazon. I would strongly advise you to cut off all communications with that once blessed island. He and his band persecute those who worship the Valar. He has been warring with Sauron (as, I am sure you know) and although he originally took him as a captive, it is now Sauron who commands. I only escaped from there because Isildur of the Faithful (as those who would still worship the Valar are called) saved me. They are starting to worship Morgoth, in hopes of cheating Mandos. More, they are beginning to sacrifice Eldar and Edain alike. The only reason I was not given to their altar-fires is because Isildur and Amandil kept me hid. My companion, Miredhel, was not as fortunate. He is now in Mandos' halls. Do not take vengeance- the Valar are jealous of that privilege. And Numenor's doom is swiftly falling."

Elrond nodded. He wore a grim look upon his face. "And as to Celeborn's, Galadriel's and Celebrian's visit from Lothlorien?"

"They will be coming within the month."

"Thank you. If you will excuse me …"

It was obvious to Glorfindel that the Peredhil was horrified by his report as to the status of Numenor. Additionally, Elrond would want to think this over: the Numenorean kings _were_ descended from his (by all accounts) beloved twin brother. Glorfindel nodded, allowing the other elf in the room to step forwards. Glorfindel stifled a groan: by all the Valar, _what_ had he done to deserve Erestor before breakfast? His anger was slightly appeased by the sight of the laden tray the Noldorin carried. Erestor set it down on a nearby table and grinned at him.

Glorfindel treated the chief advisor to his most impressive scowl. It had once caused Tuor to back away from Idril one warm summer evening; unfortunately, it did not have the same effect on Erestor.

"Good morning!" chirruped Erestor. "Don't scowl like that- what if your face freezes up? Incidentally, I am really, really sorry, for –"

Glorfindel raised his palm in negation. "Spare me. Please, leave that tray on my bedside table and go find whoever is in charge of my healing. I would appreciate the knowledge of the actual status of my leg."

"Don't worry. Your leg wasn't _that_ badly broken." Glorfindel barely managed to suppress a grimace. Broken? He'd be incapacitated for over a month! "It'll heal within two months. And, since I'm really sorry about breaking it, I've taken over your case."

Glorfindel didn't say anything to that since he was lost for curses foul enough to describe the situation. At length, he managed to say, "you've taken over my case?"

"Certainly. Lord Elrond has much to do, and since I've found a competent secretary, I should have just enough time to take care of you. Lord Elrond taught me himself."

Glorfindel was frantically praying to Iluvatar that this was only a nightmare and that he would find himself tangled up in sweaty sheets in the morning. Alas, it was not to be.

"Would you please do me the most wonderful favor?"

"Gladly."

"GET OUTTA' MY ROOM!"

()()()()()()()()()()(()()()()(()()()()()(())()()()

A/N: Doom is used in the older meaning of fate.

Yes, I know I named the current Numenorean king as Ar-Adunakhor. But then I was using my index (ROTK). The change to Ar-Pharazon is due to my finding my Silmarillion.

I'll be away for at least 2 more weeks. I'm really sorry I haven't updated this in so long, but family stuff happened . . . and you get the message.

I always had trouble picturing Elrond and Galadriel as happily getting along. These are two strong-minded individuals, each ruling realms with (I'd assume) different approaches and of differing elven races just chumming it up? I always thought that life would have been very . . . interesting whenever these two were close enough to talk to each other.


	3. A most excellent seating plan!

A/N: Since I'll be leaving on a camping trip for the next few weeks, I felt it was only fair to leave you with a new chapter.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Elrond, Glorfindel, and Erestor were gathered in Rivendell's library. Glorfindel's leg-and-cast was propped up on a convenient chair. The wine was flowing freely, books and papers were scattered all over the tables, and seating charts were being drawn up.

Erestor snagged a vegetable and gestured furiously with it, dripping cream sauce all over his typically horrible outfit. Oddly, the cream stains improved the looks of the garish orange and bright pinks. "The second night after they arrive, we should have a banquet to welcome our guests from Lothlorien. Galadriel and Celeborn should be seated across the table from each other. Elrond, I'll need you to escort Celebrian."

Glorfindel glared icily at Erestor. The antipathy had become mutual, but since Elrond had said that he required both their helps, they attempted to keep it within reasonable bounds. Glorfindel used an over-elaborate and chilly courtesy. Erestor, predictably, was oblivious to the real intent of the courtesy.

Elrond groaned. "Celebrian?! Have you ever met Galadriel? If she's anything like her mother, this dinner will be a real nightmare." He warmed to his subject. "In fact, I'll bet that she'll have long, golden blond hair, beautiful features – and won't be able to stop telling me how much better done whatever-it-is-at-the-moment was in Lothlorien. Then, if she keeps complaining, Galadriel will join in the chorus, _in addition _to telling me that the Eldar will respect me more if I wait for them to come to me instead of running after them like a bloodhound on a scent. Celebrian'll expect all available males in Imladris to fall at her feet, blushing and stammering. I won't."  
  
Glorfindel raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "My lord. I recommend that you keep an open mind. I met Celebrian and found her to be very pleasant." Elrond raised an eyebrow skeptically, but said nothing more. "My very dear chief advisor, do you suppose you might exert yourself to kindly pass me those so very excellently drawn seating charts of yours?"

"Thanks! Here they are. Lord Elrond, it's just for one evening. After, you can ignore her as much as you want. You can organize a hunting trip or something."

Elrond smiled wryly. Glorfindel scrutinized the chart and felt his eyes widen slowly in horror.

"Lord Erestor, do you suppose you might explain as to why you seated the Lord Celeborn next to that chief of the Naugrim?"

"Sure. So they can talk over trading concessions."

"You best of chief advisors! Do you seriously intend to seat Celebrimbor _on the other side_ of Celeborn?"  
  
"Sure. So the Naugrim and Celebrimbor can meet, understand what's going on, and show Celeborn how the mutual trade is of benefit to both. And I _know_ that Galadriel loves jewelry, so Celeborn will get a chance to impress her when she's seated opposite himself."

Glorfindel privately admitted to himself that on a logical level, the seating plan was fairly brilliant. On the emotional level...

"My most wonderful and marvelous Erestor. Your superb tastes and wisdom are exceeded only by your incredible judgment of other being's character's."

"Thank you!"


	4. The lamest excuse since

A/N: What can I say? Except that I'm having lots of fun….'cause I love these characters. Oh, and due to my annoyance with the surplus of Haldir fanfics, the march-warden isn't born yet.

And I had a lot of trouble trying to characterize Celebrian. Elrond appears in the books, other characters "jumped" into my head, but Celebrian? mutters

I also have no clue as to the layout of the actual last homely house. If anyone knows where I could find a map or blueprints, I would be much obliged. As it is, I am assuming it is built something like a Greek house – a large courtyard flanked on three sides by the building.

Disclaimer (which is to the tune of "darling clementine): (You have been warned…) "Oh dear Tolkien, Oh dear TOLkien, Oh dear J. R. R. TolKIIIIIIIIIINE! Middle – Earth is bright and wondrous; and I know, it is all THIIIIIIIINE!" You may take your earplugs off and breathe a sight of relief; I've stopped singing. And, Mr. Tolkien, my deepest apologies for the mauling I am giving your characters.

* * *

The November day was cold. Everything looked dull and gray. Especially in the drizzle, which slippery-slicked down the flagstones of Imladris' courtyard. Erestor, Glorfindel and Elrond, flanked by assorted Noldor, waited in the courtyard for the party from Lothlorien to enter from the main gates. The Lord Celeborn and his family were flanked by a troop of the Galadhrim.

Neither Erestor, Glorfindel, or Elrond was feeling particularly cheerful. Elrond hated playing the polite host to Galadriel, and was bent on doing his best to ignore Celebrian entirely. Erestor, quite simply, was not looking forward to having to be diplomatic. Glorfindel simply loathed getting rained on.

Elrond attempted to paste a welcoming smile on his face (it fell far short of its intended effect) and strode forwards to greet the Lord and Lady of the Woods. The convoy had entered the courtyard. The Galadhrim were being guided towards their lodgings. The Lord and his family were being guided inside. Erestor seemed to be waiting for something or someone. Glorfindel was curious, so he stayed.

Soon, Glorfindel found out what Erestor's not-so-patient attitude meant. The party of dwarves arrived. Glorfindel mentally groaned. Celeborn and whoever was the chief of the Naugrim was sure to be a mixture whose properties would be startlingly akin to tossing a lit pine branch down a privy hole.

Erestor moved quickly to the side of the dwarf dressed in the most ornate suit of mail. Glorfindel strained his ears to catch snatches of the conversation.

"My lord…[standard flattering greetings]…Celeborn…. is unusually stubborn…be patient…your natural flexibility….your great patience….such wonderful business potential in Lothlorien…." Erestor went on, and on, and began to gesticulate excitedly. The dwarf nodded, and Erestor escorted him and his party inside.

Glorfindel attempted not to eavesdrop too obviously. Was Erestor actually being diplomatic? Had Morgoth suddenly been released? Had Sauron come bearing gifts? He decided to hold off on his speculations until _after_ tomorrow night's banquet.

In the meantime, he walked inside after Lord Elrond. He breathed a mental sigh of relief at the welcome dryness. Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel were heavily involved with a conversation involving Elrond. The Galadhrim had absented themselves. And the Lady Celebrian was looking slightly lost in all the diplomactic bustle. She wasn't as important, diplomatically speaking, as her parents, so everyone was ignoring her at the moment.

Except Glorfindel. Glorfindel sighed inwardly and walked over. Celebrian had _seemed_ pleasant enough in Lothlorien, but Glorfindel distrusted immediately any five-minute acquaintances. However, she also seemed lonely and shy. Glorfindel grinned at her and said.

"Dreary weather, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Is it often like this in Imladris?"

"Oftener then I would like."

Elrond was feeling slightly desperate. The Lady Galadriel was beginning to speak of how Lothlorien hardly ever had that sort of foggy drizzle, and how she was afraid his health might suffer in the chills of Imladris. His half-mortal blood, so delicate compared to that of the Eldar. The Lord Celeborn seemed…amused. Amused?! By the Valar! Elrond glanced frantically around before he said something irreparably honest. Glorfindel was chatting up a pretty elf-maid. He couldn't see any miniature versions of Galadriel in the corridors, so perhaps she had mistakenly gone with the Galadhrim. He hated to inflict Galadriel on anyone, but he needed to get away.

"My lord Glorfindel!" he said, with perhaps more enthusiasm than strictly necessary. "Could you please escort these most tired people to their rooms? I have, er, thingummies…to confer…with…. Erestor about. Very urgent. And unavoidable. Excuse me." And with perhaps the lamest excuse to be uttered in Middle-Earth since the time Celebrimbor had explained to Cirdan that "he had simply thought the sails would go _faster_ if they were shaped differently" (after getting midway through the largest with a pair of scissors), Elrond happily vanished after Erestor.

* * *

A/N: Ok, responses to reviewers. Answered in approximately the order in which they appear.

Olivewood401: No one's quite sure how Erestor manages to hear things…or not. Elrond? I see him as being left by nearly everyone he cared about over the course of his enormously long life…Earendil, Elwing, Maedhros, Elros…the list just stretches on and on. Yes, he is immensely dignified – but I think nearly everyone needs some point to act silly. One of the reasons Elrond is so touchy around Galadriel is because she sees Lothlorien as doing things much better than Imladris – and she takes pains to make Elrond notice.

Lady of the Twilight Woods and Crow: ****bows Thank you!

nevvy: Yup, trip was awesome. And thanks for your review!

Erestor: Pride indeed goeth before a fall. I am having fun. It's kind of hard to tell whether or not Erestor is that clueless – or just getting a kick out of the expressions on other people's faces.

Aerlalaith, Noldo, lily, Cheysuli and Bbuttercup: Again, what can I say except "Thanks." And yes, I really mean it.


	5. Doodah! Doodah!

A/N: Well, here goes...apologies for the delay in updating. I did have writer's block at the time, and this is the best my fevered brain came up with.

Thank-you for the compliments – and to encyclopedia of arda for mentioning the fact that Celebrimbor has long since been dead.

Disclaimer: Not mine, it's all Tolkien's. Now, on with the story.

* * *

Celebrian smiled to herself. Life was becoming very nice. Galadriel was ignoring her in order to be better able to corner Lord Elrond – who was, Celebrian considered, very nearly as good at evasion as she. Granted, after only a day or so of evading Galadriel, Lord Elrond was wearing a most harried expression – but given the fact that Celebrian had been devoting centuries to the task, she could not find much sympathy for him.  
Tonight, the welcoming banquet awaited them. Celebrian grinned, and twirled in front of a mirror. Galadriel loved rich, vivid colors, and had long tried to "persuade" her daughter to wear them. Celebrian thought that the bright colors her mother preferred made her look like a corpse. Celebrian had finally gotten her way – her gown was in soft pastels. She hoped Lord Elrond would like it – she hoped she hadn't chased him away last night –but her mother had been listening . . .

Lord Elrond groaned mentally to himself. How was he to know that Celebrian had been that "pretty elf-maid that Glorfindel had been attempting to chat up?" Last night had been a nightmare. He had led Celeborn and Galadriel to their chambers, they had begun to unpack – and Celeborn noticed that Celebrian was missing. They had searched all of Imladris – only to find Celebrian and Glorfindel snacking in the kitchens.  
Elrond had then tried talking to Celebrian on the way back. Galadriel and Celeborn were with them, and Erestor was attempting to calm them down. Valar help him – Elrond had never spoken to any elfmaid so _silly_ before in his life! It seemed as though she could talk about nothing more than clothes, tonight's banquet, and various inconsequential and uncontroversial topics. Perhaps he could foist her off on Erestor for the rest of their stay. His chief counsellor was of a high enough rank that the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien could not be offended. . .

"Celeborn?"  
"Yes, Galadriel?"  
"Why won't she ever listen to me?"  
"How so? It's not as though I can read your mind."  
Galadriel smiled, ruefully. "Why won't she ever take my advice? And _how_ could she be such a – a spineless kitten with a brain of fluff? She is my daughter, after all."  
"Perhaps, it is because she wishes to –"  
Galadriel cut him off. "Surely not. In any event – what do you think of Lord Glorfindel?"  
"Ah – the Balrog-slayer?"  
"Precisely."  
Celeborn and Galadriel discussed the various elves, and various topics that might come up.  
"And Lord Elrond is still trying to avoid me!"  
"I would have though he would be better at it than that. The entire point of avoiding someone tactfully is ensuring that he does not realize he is being put off."  
"Why?" asked Galadriel.  
"Perhaps he wishes to make sure you have fully rested before speaking with you." Celeborn replied.  
"Am I that fearsome?"  
Celeborn just grinned.

Lindir had finally managed to corner Erestor.  
"Doo-dah. Doo-dah," Erestor sang softly. "Oh, hail! O mighty musician! O sweetest of songsters – "  
"Erestor!"  
"Yes?"  
"Could you please make an _attempt_ at dignity? I know you're capable of it."  
"But what if I exhaust my dignity before the banquet is over? Then where would we be?"  
Lindir had trouble thinking of a suitable reply.

Elrond and Glorfindel were lounging around the library.  
"You've talked to her! Isn't she just the most –"  
"Charming? Intelligent? Funny?"  
"Glorfindel? Are we talking about the same elf-maid here?"  
"I talked to Celebrian – whom did you speak with?"  
"Celebrian."  
"That's odd. Maybe you'll be able to get to know her better at dinner."  
"Dinner? Aule, Mandos and Manwe – I completely forgot! I need to change, and bathe, and – Excuse me Glorfindel."  
Glorfindel just shook his head and let Elrond depart. He had been ready for the past five minutes.


	6. Of courtesy

A/N: Yup, next chappie! And if anyone knows the name of the Chief of the Naugrim approximately 3310 Second Age, I would really appreciate it. Thanks!

And I'm using the version of Celeborn's history which states that he comes from Doriath. And I

Disclaimer: All Tolkien's, not mine, not mine.

* * *

Elrond mentally groaned. Against all his wishes and all his careful planning he had been seated next to Celebrian. This was not good. Especially because he really didn't think that a conversation about fabrics went well with fish appetizer.  
He was pleasantly surprised.  
Celebrian was, not exactly shocked, but definitely surprised to be seated next to Elrond. She was willing to bet that he thought her a silly twit, especially after yesterday. Well, her mother was occupied, so she could drop that mask. Come, on, fool – say something! She sat, desperately thinking of a topic of conversation.  
"Your realm, Imladris." Celebrian said.  
"Yes?" Elrond replied.  
"It's very nice."  
"Thank you." He turned back to his fish. She was about to turn away, but decided that she should at least try again; he was her host, and she _hated_ to be rude.  
"I really liked the gardens. I've never been outside of Lothlorien, and some of those plants don't grow there, and, would you be able to let me know who designed them?"  
"I did." Now Celebrian was shocked. The only models she had for running a kingdom was that of her parents' – and neither one particularly cared for gardens except that they looked pretty.  
"Really? Could you show me around tomorrow? I know that you probably have one hundred and one things to do, but I don't know anyone here, really, except Glorfindel, and he, er,"  
Elrond grinned. "Would you actually mean that you probably know more about gardens then he does?"  
"Well, yes. So – could you?"  
"I think I will have the time. Tomorrow?"  
"Please."  
"Lady Celebrian?" She gestured to show that her mouth was full. She swallowed.  
"Yes, Lord Elrond?"  
"What _do_ you know about gardens?" 

Erestor had his hands full. He was attempting to convince Celeborn and the Chief of the Naugrim (Dorin? Fwalin? Tharin? Aargh!) to cooperate. "Lord Celeborn?"  
"Yes, Erestor?"  
"This is the Chief of the Naugrim."  
"Good evening, Chief of the Naugrim." Although the words were civil enough, the tone made the rudeness obvious. The Chief of the Naugrim caught on. His beard began to bristle like a porcupine's quills. Erestor clapped a hand to his head. He was incredibly grateful when Galadriel stepped in and smoothed things over.  
"I am sure that we three have many things to discuss. My lord," she turned to Celeborn. "Were you not just saying that orcs have been found with greater frequency upon our borders?"  
Celeborn nodded.  
Galadriel continued. "We will probably need greater supplies of armor and weapons. We would be willing to purchase more."  
The Chief of the Naugrim grinned. "I believe that I and my people might be able to assist in that; are you considering importing the completed supplies, or simply ores?"  
The conversation went on from there. Lord Celeborn remained civil – which, as was later pointed out, was little short of a miracle from an elf who had once lived in Doriath. Lady Galadriel managed to lay the groundwork for negotiations, and Erestor managed to prevent putting his feet into his over-large mouth. It was later wondered if that were a larger miracle than the Lord Celeborn's courtesy.

Glorfindel, who had been seated with the Galadhrim, observed this miraculous feat. His eyes narrowed – he would do something about this Erestor. Later, when things had quieted down, and Erestor would not suspect him – he would take care of this advisor. Glorfindel had an excellent sense of humor – except when he was the butt of a joke. Unfortunately, Erestor had an excellent sense of the ridiculous, and had used Glorfindel as an example.


	7. Galadriel

Elrond was very carefully trying to escort Celebrian around his gardens – and refrain from singing the praises of Imladris. That is what friends are for. Unfortunately, most of his friends were occupied. So he kept very quiet.

Angrentur was keeping that party of Naugrim occupied. Glorfindel had bowed out of all such duties by claiming "urgent business." Erestor was busy keeping certain various elves of Imladris from becoming certain various embarrassments to the Lord of Imladris (he wasn't entirely sure if this policy had been a good idea). And Lindir was keeping the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien occupied.

However, he could not prevent a smug smile from quietly turning up the corners of his mouth. Celebrian noticed this, but refrained from pointing it out – she was the guest, and he the host. Besides, his gardens were _much_ more interesting then he was.

Celebrian was running back and forth to look at them better.

"Do you only grow flowers here?" she asked. In Lothlorien, the herbs were kept separate from the flowers – and everyone was careful to ensure that the mustard was kept separated from the beehives.

"Not at all," Elrond replied. "I designed it very logically. It moves from flowers, to herbs, to vegetables, to the medicinal plants."  
  
"What moves? I'm a little confused here."  
  
"The path. We start off with flowers – which is where we are now. The flowers are near the beehives, and they in turn are close to the Hall of Fire. The herbs and vegetables are by the kitchens, and the medicinal plants are by the infirmary. It's very helpful as a navigational system."

"How does it all fit? Imladris seems a lot more straight – this path keeps looping about – are we going in circles?"

"Nearly. It's designed around a rivulet of the Bruinen which I and a few others diverted through the gardens. But the actual design is more like a wheel."

"How did you divert the rivulet? A dam, a channel?"  
  
"A channel. We – my advisors and myself – wanted to disturb the woods and the Bruinen as little as possible."  
  
Celebrian nodded. "Lothlorien as well. It's why we live in flets – so we don't have to cut down our trees to build our homes."  
  
Elrond knew it had been too good to be true. Celebrian had just pulled a "Galadriel" on him. He was fed up 'till _here_ with Galadriel telling him how much better whatever-it-was was so much better done in Lothlorien then in Imladris.

Elrond's tone grew chilly. "Unfortunately, Imladris does not boast the famed Mallorn trees. However, I can assure you that our trees are much more varied, and our fish and game superb."  
  
Celebrian wished she knew what she had said to offend him. "Lord Elrond? What did I just say? I know I'm not the equal of my mother when it comes to diplomacy."  
  
Diplomacy? Elrond was shocked. There were many words he used to describe Galadriel. Diplomatic was not one he used often.

And, very softly spoken, "Or much else." Her voice regained its usual volume."But I can tell I've just said _something_ offensive. And I don't know what, and I'm really sorry, especially because I was enjoying walking through these gardens, and –"

Her frankness compelled a similar confession.

"It's simply that – I conceived of and designed Imladris myself. I love this land, and this land is mine. Ga – certain important people see their homes as superior to it. While I can understand such an attitude – very well – I don't understand it at all. Except that because other realms are their homes, they feel they must defend them. However, these people never seem to stop saying how much better run their realms are then mine. And they never stop!"

"I'm sorry."

"It is all right." But it wasn't. And though they both knew it, neither quite knew how to make it right.  
  
They were very quiet as Elrond guided Celebrian back through the gardens.

* * *

A/N: Angrentur's name translates as "master of iron."

I apologize for the lack of comprehensive gardening information. This is because all the plants I really know are wild American ones (trees, dandelions, sorrel...). What I know about American gardens is next to nothing. And what I know about English gardens (aside from their reputation for excellence) can be summed up in two words: squat diddly.

And, please, please review! I'll even help you. (Translation: I am desperate...)

Review form:

What I liked about your story was:

What I didn't like about your story was:

A way you could fix this problem is to:

See? Simple. And if you're anonymous, just type in your username at the end of it.

Pleeeeeeeeeease? big puppy eyes Thanks!


	8. Revenge, warnings, and retribution?

A/N: My deepest thanks to my reviewers, especially my most recent ones: Lady of the Twilight Woods, anxioustritip, Erestor and nevvy. Do not worry; I am enjoying writing this fic in the jungle gym of my mind too much to stop it now.

And my deepest apologies for having taken _this_ long to type up this chapter. My only excuse: Nanowrimo. So, it's short, but it's posted the night I've typed it.

If were to make my chapters longer, I would take even _longer_ to type them up then I do now.

Does anyone want me to take longer? I know that when I'm enjoying a fanfic I want the author to get the next chapter out as quickly as possible.

And here they are – Erestor and Glorfindel! And I'm sorry, but I was enjoying the Elrond -- Galadriel dynamics...

* * *

Glorfindel was enjoying himself. He was having an excellent time sneaking around Imladris. He wore soft slippers, and did his best to disappear into alcoves whenever an elf walked by. After he had persuaded Elrond to take over his case, his leg had healed rapidly. He had only waited this long to pursue his revenge on Erestor, because he had had trouble coming up with something fittingly horrific.

He had thought that none of the standard approaches would work. Erestor was too frequently inhabiting his own mental cloudcuckooland for a typical practical joke to work.

Pail of dye suspended above the door? Erestor might appreciate it.

ShavingErestor bald? See previous answer.

No, the revenge Glorfindel had in mind was much more appropriate. It was to be far more devious than the usual tricks. And was calculated to make Erestor notice.

He wanted his revenge. Besides, Erestor wouldn't dare do anything until the party from Lothlorien and that of the Naugrim left. Glorfindel was quite sure that, although Erestor would notice this "prank," he wouldn't try anything until he could be sure that the repercussions wouldn't harm Elrond. So, Glorfindel snuck into Erestor's room and set to work.

* * *

Elrond was gritting his teeth and doing his best to pay attention to Galadriel's lecture. Celeborn was glancing at him worriedly, and cut short his wife's flow of words.

"Lord Elrond?" asked Celeborn. "Are you feeling well? You seem to be twisting your mouth into the most absurd grimaces."  
"Yes, I'm fine. I'm quite sorry. Lady Galadriel, would you please explain, again, to me, why exactly, you are trying to give me a character sketch of your daughter?"

Galadriel continued. Although her face was growing redder by the second, she was determined to get her point across.

"My daughter is not exactly the sharpest arrow in the quiver. She is very beautiful. She is also sweet, naïve, and very gullible. I will be very displeased should you or any in Imladris –"

Elrond had trouble believing what he was hearing. But he decided to stop Galadriel before she began resembling a plum. He was a healer after all, and he didn't want to have to treat her for bursting a blood vessel.

"Lady Galadriel, I assure you. Romancing Celebrian is the last thing on my mind."

"So, it's _Celebrian_ to you? Young elf, I am inclined to give you a piece of my mind…"  
Elrond mentally sighed, and let her continue on. There was just no helping some Eldar...

* * *

Erestor was occupying himself in Imladris' forge. Darin, the chief of that party of the Naugrim, was demonstrating a new technique for working in silver wire. Erestor was looking forwards to crafting a new hair tie. Granted, his old one had lasted for the past several decades, but he was looking forwards to a change. Besides, he was enjoying talking with the Naugrim. They knew so much about metals and stones. He could find out so much.

Erestor was pestering the Naugrim with tons of questions. Darin was looking slightly harried when Lindir came in.

"Erestor," said Lindir. "I'm afraid I have some very upsetting news.

"Huh? Just give me a minute, here, I'm a bit busy…" muttered Erestor out of the corner of his mouth. He was busy setting an amethyst into its setting.

But Lindir insisted, "I believe you should come with me now." He turned to Darin. "Forgive me, but this is very important."  
Darin waved a hand in negation.

Erestor shrugged in resignation. He followed Lindir out of the room. The next sound heard was the pattering footsteps of a surprisingly quick eldar.

A wail was soon heard throughout all of Imladris.

"GLORFINDEL!"


	9. Something finally gets done

A/N: Not too much Erestor- Glorfindel in this chapter, I'm afraid. Barring unforeseen typing, the next chapter should contain the Big Showdown.

I'm having waaaay too much fun with Lord Elrond. And Celebrian. Shouldn't forget her. Noooo precious.

Disclaimer: All Tolkien's. Except the mauling I'm giving his canon.

horizontallinehorizontallinehorizonatllinehorizontallinehorizontallinehorizontalline

Lindir thought Erestor looked as though he was about to cry as he surveyed the wreckage of about a dozen experiments.Lindir had to admit that Glorfindel had demonstrated intelligence. Erestor loved to tinker and play around with things. So, around the walls of his enormous bedroom (and he used every square inch), he had set up experiments and things. There was his family of white mice, his balls and their ramps, several bowls of water, a small stove, various metals and gems, prisms, mirrors, crucibles and other weird and wonderful apparatuses. Glorfindel hadn't destroyed any of Erestor's materials; He had rearranged numerous objects, and _destroyed_ _all of Erestor's notes_.  
Erestor looked around him in despair. He had been so close! To what, he wasn't quite sure, but he had thought he had been on the verge of a scientific breakthrough. And now, although he could easily categorize his gems again, he would have no idea where to start with the mice. They all looked the same. And so did some of the prisms, and bowls of water – one had salt, another sugar, a third arsenic and so on – what was he to do? Glorfindel had burnt all his notes to a fine gray ash on Erestor's stove.  
All those notes represented all the years of research Erestor had devoted to the Natural Sciences. _And Glorfindel had destroyed them_! He was sure it was Glorfindel – there was a small golden flower pinned to a golden lock of hair on the door.  
He turned to Lindir and said, very quietly, "Do not warn Glorfindel."  
Lindir had never realized before exactly how much taller than he Erestor really was. He had also never realized how much menace the gangly figure could project. He nodded, quickly.  
"Thank you. Excuse me."  
And Erestor strode off. Lindir had effectively promised not to warn Glorfindel. He decided it was time to find Lord Elrond.

Lord Elrond was, at this moment, being very happy that he was able to talk to Lord Celeborn without the Lady Galadriel.  
"My Lord Celeborn," he said.  
"I am he," Celeborn replied. "What do you want?"  
"Exactly what are the movements of Orcs by Lothlorien?" Celeborn began speaking, of how they were encroaching, and how the wardens were beginning to need to exercise caution when patrolling the fringes of a land that was theirs.  
Elrond nodded, and took mental notes. Finally! He was finally able to accomplish something.

Glorfindel was busy in the kitchen. All of the Eldar living in Imladris were expecting to take a turn at every chore. Lord Elrond usually managed to evade the dirty dishes by usually being the person to concoct various effective and foul tasting healing herbal brews.  
Glorfindel enjoyed cooking. It gave him a chance to wield a knife in a constructive way. Granted, he couldn't cook anything particularly fancy, but he could make an excellent stew. He grinned, and shoved the onions and mushrooms into a saucepan, and let it simmer for a while. Although not everyone in Imladris liked mushrooms in their soup, Glorfindel was cooking. And since Glorfindel was cooking, there would be mushrooms in the soup. There was leftover bread, meats and beans. It wouldn't be particularly elaborate, but it would be good. He didn't think either Celeborn or Celebrian would mind, and he would be sure to "remind" Galadriel to be a gracious guest. Unfortunately for Lothlorien-Imladris relations, it slipped his mind.  
Although there were usually other Eldar working in the kitchens, Elrond had organized them into a hunting party because tonight's dinner would be using up the last of the meats. Lord Elrond had been working on acquiring domestic animals, but until they arrived, the hunting parties would have to suffice.  
Glorfindel was beginning to worry about that. He added his chopped-up vegetables to the soup pot. There were not very many Eldar currently living in Imladris, but their ranks were quietly swelling. That trend seemed as though it would continue (he was one example, and he fully intended to stay), and with the party from Lothlorien staying, he was beginning to feel concerned that they might be over hunting the local area.  
Although there was every chance Lord Elrond might figure this out and avert that potential tragedy, Glorfindel had no intention of waiting until things reached a crisis point. He resolved to research the types of domestic animals that could be kept and fed in the valley of Imladris that very night. And he would use his funds to obtain them. He lived in Imladris too. And this, Glorfindel remembered.

Lord Elrond was getting his daily exercise. He had bid farewell to Lord Celeborn, and walked around Imladris, trying to see if any problems were developing. Imladris seemed empty today. Most of the Galadhrim and a fair number of Imladrin hunters had been put to hunting the forest surrounding Imladris. They needed meat. And it was winter; the fish would not grace their tables until the spring runnings.  
Still, he walked around, looking for any knots of Eldar. It was a cold and rainy day; most Eldar were inside, playing board games. Chess was a favorite. He couldn't see any trouble spots. Lord Celeborn and he had realized that they would soon need to stockpile weapons and Galadriel was out of his hair. He would have to do something about Celebrian, but right now, he decided to find something else to occupy his time. His Chief Librarian had threatened him with a weighty tome on etiquette if he organized his library one more time. There were no serious diseases threatening Imladris (Eldar don't get sick – and this time of year saw very few broken limbs). He couldn't really harvest any more plants until spring – what in Middle-Earth could one extremely bored Peredhil do on a rainy Monday afternoon?  
He had it. He would go for a walk outside. He grabbed his cloak (deep gray, with a silver clasp) and strode outside. It was the middle of February and absolutely gray outside; he blended right in. He walked around his gardens. He gently ran a finger down some of his plants trunks, frowned at the crocus beds, mentally willing them to _grow_. And touched the plant stems that were standing.  
He behaved in this serious and dignified fashion until he was out of easy sight of the house. Then he pulled back the hood of his throat, tilted his head back, and let the cool water slick his hair to his head and ears. And then, he began to spin around, faster and faster - because it was rain and the fact that it wasn't snow meant that spring was really coming - until he fell down on his back. He lay on the grass, not much caring about the stains, and watched the droplets come plummeting from the sky. It was quiet. Nothing was singing. The only sounds were the plops of the rain droplets.  
Elrond lay there for an unmeasured span of time, and then he got up. He stood, looked at his cloak – at least green doesn't go badly with dark gray – and wrung out his hair. He pulled the hood of his cloak back over his head, and walked back inside the Last Homely House, feeling that all was well with the world.  
Until he almost bumped into Celebrian.

It was almost dinner-time. Celebrian had decided to get out of Imladris: she had hoped her mother would leave her alone now that they weren't at home. No such luck, and Galadriel was worse then ever. The weather had put her mother in a foul mood. Her father had not been around to mitigate her mother's bad temper.  
Galadriel had sniped at her, "Don't even think about it."  
"You are thinking about it."  
"Yes, you are."  
"Don't give me that look."  
"Don't even think about it; I know what you're thinking."  
"Don't even try it."  
"I don't have the strength to deal with you right now. Stop."  
So she had decided to leave the room before she said anything. Anything she would say to her mother right now would be extremely hurtful. She loved her mother dearly, but she wished her mother couldn't read her mind.  
She hadn't bothered to grab a cloak. It was chilly outside, but she liked the cold. And she didn't think anyone else would be outside. It just went to show that the Valar were having too much fun with her day; she bumped into the one elda she did not want to see (after her mother).  
"Good afternoon, Lord Elrond." She said.  
"Good afternoon, Lady Celebrian. Why have you come outside without a cloak?" asked Elrond. He knew it was rude, but she was his guest.  
"I'm afraid I've forgotten one."  
"Here, you can borrow mine – the inside is still dry – and I was about to go inside. I apologize for the grass stains."  
"Thank-you. And I don't mind grass stains." She said. And she hurried off into the twilight, clutching his cloak around her. And when she had reached a small rivulet of the Bruinen, whose bank was guarded by an old tree, she sat down, leaned against its trunk, and felt very sorry for herself. And thought that maybe Lord Elrond wasn't so bad after all.


	10. Unanswered prayers

A/N: See? I haven't abandoned this fic! Well, I had, sort of. But then I realized that I'm a very greedy little person who wants more reviews. So mwahaha. Besides, I had trouble figuring out what Erestor would be doing. However, this should be a nice long chapter to make up for the delay.  
This seems to be turning into an Elrond/Celebrian fic. So sue me.  
I should be working on studying for my finals. Feh. But I'm really bored. And I wanted to get another chapter out already.  
Disclaimer: They're all Tolkien's. I'm just having fun playing.

* * *

Elrond looked around at his formerly tidy library. Erestor was known for making piles of miscellaneous objects when he was researching – but Glorfindel was something else. Even a week ago, he would have sworn it would be impossible for any one Eldar to take over an entire corner of his library indefinitely.

He was wrong.

Glorfindel was surrounded by piles of books, rolls of parchment, ink, and freshly sharpened quills. Until Elrond saw Angrentur walking past him with a loaded tray of food, he hadn't understood just how Glorfindel was managing to survive.

He walked behind Glorfindel's growing wall of books to confront the eldar directly.

"Glorfindel," he said. "What are you doing?"

Glorfindel grinned up at him. "It's a surprise." He made another note on his parchment. "Trust me. Would you mind lending me that meadow? Indefinitely?"

"Which meadow?" Elrond asked. Then he saw that the parchment Glorfindel was holding was really a map. "Oh. That one. I hope you realize that that meadow has more rocks than –"

"Exactly why I wanted it. It gets water, but it's got too many rocks to make good farmland. On the other hand, it's fairly sheltered – and manages to put up lots of grass and things. Has Imladris got a working construction crew somewhere, or should I hire Edain?"

"The somewhat local town could use some fresh currency. But we should really have Eldar working on the finer bits – hire Edain for the rough construction. We can finish it off ourselves. What are you planning on building?"

"You'll see. But stay out of that meadow until it's done!"

Elrond shrugged. He trusted Glorfindel not to try something horribly outrageous. He was a fairly levelheaded elda, capable, and possessing a fair share of common sense.

If it had been Erestor, on the other hand, he wouldn't have been able to sleep until he knew exactly what the elda was planning and how he was planning to accomplish it.

Elrond walked through Imladris' halls, the start of an idea growing in his mind. He came up with most of his best ideas when walking. Something about exercising his limbs freed his mind up. Erestor could be brilliant at planning, strategy, and getting the most unlikely of people to cooperate (including resolving Cirdan's furor over those sails, and allowing Celebrimbor back into Cirdan's workshop). However, if you wanted Erestor to organize anything – no, Elrond considered – you didn't want Erestor to organize anything. He had no idea how the elda managed it, but whenever Erestor was put in charge of organizing something concrete, it would go wrong. Witness what had nearly happened with his banquet; he was just grateful that he had removed Erestor from his kitchens before Erestor had had the chance to thoroughly confuse his staff-of-the-day. He ran Imladris on a communal system. Granted, being its Lord had its advantages; he never had to wash the dishes, but he usually did sign up for double laundry, which he considered fair.

But, he considered, he really did need somebody to help him handle the day-to-day running of Imladris. Somebody who could not only convince other Eldar to cooperate, but who also wouldn't abandon a project mid-go to go chasing down some kind of interesting little butterfly, someone with excellent organizational skills, who could organize the everyday things as well as the major ones. Someone whom even Lady Galadriel would respect. He decided to wait and see what Lord Glorfindel was planning with the meadow.

In the meantime, he decided that he needed to find Erestor. Perhaps he could talk him out of vengeance until the Lothlorien party left Imladris. That this could take as much as a year certainly crossed his mind. It would be a wonderfully indefinite period of time in which he could be sure that Erestor would not be planning something fiendishly ingenious that might backfire and splatter on other eldar.

So, he walked over to Erestor's rooms. He knocked on the door.

"Goooood afternoon Lord Elrond! Feel free to enter." Erestor's voice sounded out cheerfully from the inside.

Elrond felt slightly unnerved. Granted, Erestor was usually on the batty side of cheerful, but he would expect even this elda to be upset. Secondly, how in Middle-Earth had Erestor known that he was knocking on the door? Then he noticed the peephole set in it. He walked in. For once, Erestor's room was completely uncluttered. Nearly all the objects had been emptied out. The shelves along the walls were clear of weird apparatuses. He could actually see the floor. And the mouse cages that had hung from the ceiling were gone.

"Good afternoon, Erestor. Are you plotting something?" Erestor tended to be good at either ignoring conversational subtleties, or missing them completely. Given the number of diplomatic successes Erestor had pulled off, Elrond was starting to believe the first possibility.

Erestor grinned, "now, why would you think that?" But, Elrond, thought, Erestor hadn't really answered his question.

"Could you please answer the question?"

"Well then, I'm not plotting."

Elrond felt highly relieved. "Oh, good."

"I've just finished setting my plan in motion a few minutes ago. So it's not in the present tense." Erestor rubbed his hands together and gave Elrond an "evil grin." Elrond was feeling a bit disconcerted.

"Oh. Do you suppose you could put it off until Celeborn, Galadriel, and company leave Imladris?"

"But it's quite amusing! And besides, I've already started it. It can't be stopped now."

Elrond felt troubles brewing on the horizon. "Would you at least tell me what it is beforehand? Many eldar have trouble with your sense of humor."

"But that would spoil the whole thing!"

Elrond muttered a short prayer to Manwe, then stood up. Manwe was obviously very busy just now. "Very well. I will probably be wandering around Imladris for the rest of the day. And I expect to be conferring with Angrentur and the Dwarves at some point. I expect to see you at dinner."

"Farewell, my lord!" Erestor walked him out of the room. Elrond wondered if he could detect the prank before it happened.

Most of the rest of the day was uneventful. That night, however, something happened.

As usual, when Erestor was attempting something, Elrond was having trouble sleeping. He knew that his Chief Advisor could be brilliant when he really tried. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Erestor wouldn't be content with some kind of mischievous and harmless prank; no, Erestor would feel as though he needed to outdo Glorfindel.

So he walked to his library at approximately midnight. Maedhros had used to read out loud to Elros and he when they were children. Maedhros and Elros were dead, but Elrond still enjoyed being read to. However, since nobody would read out loud to the Lord of Imladris, etc. Elrond read out loud to himself. He would admit that Erestor would read out loud to him, but he didn't feel up to coping any more with that particular elda.

The library was unoccupied. Even Glorfindel had left to go to sleep. He carefully avoided Glorfindel's miniature fortress of books and scrolls, and walked over to his section on tales and histories.

Elrond ran his hand over his tomes. He always found his library a relaxing place. There were several bunches of chairs and tables on the right side of the room, (the same side with the large windows). He had arranged for lamps to be set along the walls. And, lastly, there were the books. He could smell the papery scent – and found it to be a kind of aroma. He didn't feel up to reading anything too serious tonight. Although he wanted something entertaining, he also didn't feel up to something entirely silly. And he didn't want to deal with anything especially personal.

That left . . . a fair number of choices. But he knew exactly which one he wanted. He selected a volume in the tale of Tuor and Idril, and sat down. He had picked out the version with parts he would consider a bit. . . unsuitable for elflings. However, it was amusing.

He started to read out loud to himself. And reading out loud is nothing without dramatic reading. So he had fun with the voices. And after a bit of reading, he heard a muffled snort, and then a giggle. He looked up, alarmed. And then he saw Celebrian.

He wondered if he could persuade Mandos to take him to his halls immediately. Mandos did not seem to be listening.

* * *

Apologies for the abrupt ending; I need to reread my Silmarillion! 


	11. Bribery will get you nowhere

Author's Note: If you liked this at all, or think it can be improved, please let me know! And yes, it's short – but at least it's written!  
Warning: slight fluff content. Erestor should pop up in the next chapter.  
And yes, "Departures" can be read after this.  
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's. I'm just having fun.

* * *

Celebrian looked at Elrond. He was curled up on a chair, with a copy of _Of Tuor & Idril: Part III_ clutched to his chest. He was staring up at the ceiling, moving his lips soundlessly. (Lord Elrond was wondering if Mandos were open to bribery. Based on empirical evidence, the answer would appear to be in the negative.)

"Um, lord Elrond?" she asked.

"What?" he replied. Elrond was currently very happy with himself for maintaining a calm front.

"Why were you reading out loud?" Celebrian asked. She wondered if she could manage to carry off the naivete that usually worked on her mother. Apparently, Lord Elrond was not the only one whom the Valar were ignoring that night.

Elrond didn't like telling lies. However, he somehow felt that the whole truth would not serve in this instance either.

"Because I enjoy it."

"Why did you stop?"

Elrond didn't say anything. He was starting to wonder if Lady Celebrian were truly as stupid as she seemed. He gave her a Look. Elrond was getting very proud of his Looks. He had learnt how to do them from Gil-Galad.

Lady Celebrian looked down, and blushed. "I'm sorry I bothered you," she said. "But I couldn't sleep, so I came to your library to try and find something to read – and you do read well, by the way – and -" she was becoming more and more flustered as she spoke.

"I really didn't mean to embarrass you at all. And then when I came in I was enjoying it – you read very well, and, um wouldyoumindcontinuingandcanIreadtoo?"

Lord Elrond wondered if he wanted to. He liked to read to himself. And he hadn't liked Celebrian very much when he first met her. Most of their conversations had either bored or offended him. And he didn't want to think about what would happen if Galadriel found out. (You were meeting with my daughter? In your library? In the middle of the night? And the two of you were wearing _what_?)

But he was part maia. And although he didn't have Galadriel's ability to read beings' minds, he had a much rarer gift: he could read beings' hearts. He didn't always remember to use it, and it wasn't as strong as he would have liked it to be, but tonight it worked.

What he read that night is unknown, but the result of this information is.

He smiled, and said, "would you like to read along with me?"

And Celebrian perched on the arm of his chair, and started reading the part of Idril.


	12. Erestor has no sense of direction

Author's Note: If you have any prank ideas, for either Glorfindel or Erestor, please feel free to suggest them. You'll get thanks, and credit. And I apologize for any errors in my syntax but I wanted to get this up already.  
Updated as a surprise welcome back for a friend of mine. Just returned from a trip abroad. (Happy Hannukah Yoni!) Yes, it's a day early but I have a midterm tomorrow - it's going up while I still have the time to do it.  
So yeah, I'm actually going to try and keep with this fanfic. I was stalled for awhile because I needed to think of another prank.

Disclaimer: If you believe this is actually Tolkien's writing, thank you. And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not anybody named John Ronald Reuel. (Although Reuel would be a pretty cool name to have.) It's not mine, but it is Tolkien's. Now, on with the story.

* * *

Glorfindel stretched. He was almost ready to bring in the livestock and install them in the valley. Although he would never think of admitting it, this project had been a bit exhausting. Before he died, Glorfindel had not usually read for pleasure. Being reincarnated had not changed that a bit. Having to find and read the books he needed, then organize and distill the information had not proved easy. If it weren't for Lindir and Imladris' Chief Librarian, Dorwen, he didn't know how he would have managed it. Not that he would openly admit this.

Glorfindel finished working out the kinks in his hands and moved on to his last stack of papers. These were the possibilities from different farmers. He did not want to admit this as well, but he was seriously considering importing poultry as well. Although Imladris had been happily running without chickens for years, Glorfindel missed the eggs and soup.  
Erestor was sneaking around. Having fun, as usual. He had already driven the party of dwarves absolutely batty with his constant questions and his insistence on trying to see if he could make something work better. Dwarves have a certain philosophy: if it isn't broken, don't fix it. Erestor operates under the idea: if it works, make it work better. So far, Erestor had managed to "improve" the bellows, the furnace, the anvil and the range of hammers.

Elrond was working in some of his gardens nearby when he heard the wails of anguish. He ran inside his smithy to investigate. A dwarf stood with his beard caught in the bellows – Erestor had managed to improve the suction. Several other dwarves stood with most of their facial hair singed entirely off. Another had his belt magnetically attracted to the anvil. And a few others were holding hammer handles. Erestor stood with his hands outstretched and a guileless smile upon his face. Elrond tried very hard not to laugh and quickly shooed Erestor out the door. Elrond then tried to improve relations between the Naugrim and Imladris. This, at least, was more successful.  
Elrond then had to keep Erestor out of: the kitchens (Erestor tried to improve the organization of the cabinets); the beehives (Erestor had this brilliant new idea for collecting honey); and the cellars (Erestor decided that he could try and improve the barreling process). In the end, Elrond ordered Erestor to go and be useful – without trying to improve _anything_ down at the stables.  
Erestor got along famously with small children, idiots and animals. However mature and sensible adults couldn't seem to stand him for five minutes at a time. Erestor, however, had another idea.

Celebrian was wandering around on her ownsome. She may have been Galadriel's daughter – but that was all. She was not known for her wisdom or skills. She was therefore not one of the more important guests. On the other hand, Celebrian had never considered herself one of the more socially gifted Eldar. She had a "gift" for honesty. Some eldar would politely say that she spoke her mind. Others would say that she had no tact. When these others were introduced to Erestor they said that Celebrian had very little tact.  
Over the years Celebrian had learned that if she were quiet, eldar would assume that she were being tactful. However, silence did not come naturally to Celebrian. She therefore ended up usually preferring her own company and that of books. This was why she was curled up in a rear corner of the library as Glorfindel was finalizing his plans with Rohiratir, the Master of Horses. It wasn't as though it was quite Rohiratir's domain but Glorfindel wasn't quite sure whom else to seek out. And Rohiratir doubled up as a beekeeper and therefore Glorfindel felt that it wasn't all that illogical

Glorfindel was deep in conference with Lindir and Rohiratir.  
"So," he said. "Is it all settled?"  
"Yes" said Rohiratir. "The cattle should all be moved in by tomorrow. You may inspect them at your leisure."  
Lindir put in, "you make them sound like troops." He drew himself up and (he thought) did a fair imitation of Lord Glorfindel. "'Ten_shun_! Line up. You there – horns up and chest in!" It was not as impressive as Maedhros's imitation of his father but certainly got a few laughs. Particularly from Celebrian.  
Celebrian had never managed a "ladylike" laugh. She had a deep, rich chuckle that filled the library. The three eldar suddenly realized that someone else was in the library. Glorfindel stalked over to her corner.

When he saw who was there he swept her a deep bow. Glorfindel was never more courteous than when he was annoyed.  
"My lady," he said. "How much have you heard?" Celebrian shrugged.  
"All of it, I suppose. Is there someone I should not tell?" Glorfindel nodded.  
He said, "Lord Elrond. This is supposed to be a surprise gift."  
Celebrian grinned and said, "then I won't tell. But only if you let me help or something. I want in."  
Glorfindel asked, "and how would you help?"  
"Um - I could help distract Lord Elrond while you get the animals into their barn?" Celebrian said."  
By now, Lindir had walked over. He said, "my lady - we accept!"

In the farthest end of the library, hidden behind several bookcases, Erestor grinned. He now knew exactly what he intended to do in revenge. And he was sure that he could do it by himself. Unfortunately, Erestor was still able to become lost very quickly in any kind of building. And although he had intended to make it to Elrond's room, he got slightly lost on the way.

Glorfindel was awake very early the next morning. He was busy making sure all of his cattle were present and accounted for before presenting them to Elrond. Unfortunately the prime bull was missing. Even more unfortunately, it was not Glorfindel who found the bull.

A certain lady within Imladris was awakened from her sound sleep by the feeling of warm breath nuzzling at her cheek. Although she at first assumed he was her husband she quickly realized that that Eldar had departed earlier in the day on some errand of his own. The warm breath belonged to a certain prize ruminant. And the certain lady was Galadriel.


End file.
